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munsonownsmyass · 4 months

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Frank Castle x OFC! Abigail Miller

Summary: Abby inherits a bakery after her grandmother. She's not too keen about moving, this is all a very big change, but maybe this place isn't too bad. Maybe she might even find something to stay for?

Notes: This chapter is mostly to set the scene. There will be much more Frank in the next one 😉

Also, thank you to my lovely Ericca @e-dubbc11 for reading this through.

Words: 2.3 K

Masterlist - part 2

Abby had never really thought that she’d own a bakery. There had always been a love for baking, and she remembered all the times she had baked with her grandmother, but owning a bakery in Bar Harbor, Maine? It would certainly take some time getting used to this.

When her grandmother died, she left Abby her bakery. Along with the deed to the shop and a key to Nana’s house, there had been a small note.

“Life is too short, Abby. Make it sweet.”

It had come as a shock when she passed. Abby always felt that she had a special connection to her grandmother that the others didn’t, spending almost every summer since she was a kid in Bar Harbor, playing in the bakery, stealing frosting. Her grandmother always pretended she didn’t notice, but Abby knew she did.

When the other kids would play outside, fishing or play soccer, she would immerse herself in decorating cakes, taking joy in watching as the bread would rise, hearing that sweet crunchy sound that only comes from a whole tower of baked bread fresh out of the oven.

Her grandmother always encouraged her to bake. Asking if she'd help her in the kitchen during the holidays or ask for her help in the store. Maybe she secretly hoped to fuel Abby's love for baking, planning for her to take over the shop all along.

The thought makes Abby smile. Of course, that’s what this was. Her grandmother never did anything half assed, so why would she do it with her legacy? And now she was here at last. Well, almost. It had been 40 minutes, and she was still standing outside the shop, staring in through the window.

It was hard to go in there, knowing Nana wouldn’t be on the other side of the counter. Could Abby even make this place as great as she did? With Nana, everyone always felt welcome. Like they were family. Like this little space was a home away from home.

You know that feeling when you step into a store, no matter what kind, and instantly feel like you belong? That you could spend hours there, looking at every little detail, taking in every smell, flavor and sound? Yeah, Nana’s bakery was that kind of place. She was everyone’s grandmother.

“Are you alright, dear?”

Abby turns to see a sweet, older woman smiling beside her. She seems so familiar somehow, but it’s been years since Abby’s been here, so it's hard to remember everyone.

“Oh, yeah. I just… I’m trying to muster up some courage to go in.” Abby answers nervously, knowing how odd it must sound.

The realization dawns on the older woman and she instantly smiles, pulling Abby into a big hug. “Oh, Abby! I haven’t seen you in years. How are you?”

Some might feel weird about hugging a stranger, but she wasn’t really, was she? Abby hugs her back, not feeling alone for the first time since she arrived.

“I’m so sorry. I… I don’t really remember you.” She admits, a slight blush creeping up her cheeks.

“Oh, don’t worry, dear. I’m Mildred. I was your Nana’s neighbor.”

A smile slowly creeps up Abby’s face as she remembers Mildred. She was this sweet lady that would always stop by Nan’s house, especially after grandpa passed away. She had been there for Nana, always funny and the life of the party. Exactly the type of person Abby could only hope to be when she got older.

“Well, I guess I’m your neighbor now. Nana, she... She left me both the shop and the house.” The sadness hits her out of nowhere. She also had to go into Nana’s house. The last few days, as everything got finalized, she had bounced between the lawyer’s office and the motel. It hadn’t really dawned on her yet that she actually had to go through Nana’s things too.

Abby sighs heavily, happy that her parents and sister will be here in a few days, so she wouldn’t do the clean up alone. It would be hard for all of them, but thinking about her dad going through his mother’s stuff is enough to make Abby sad. A lifetime of stuff and memories, just waiting to get sorted.

It was probably good that Abby would be there too, to stop them from throwing out the important stuff. The books definitely needed to stay, especially the cooking books. Every page filled with Nana’s own notes.

See, this was probably why it was Abby who got the shop. Nana raised 4 boys, none of them even picking up a utensil unless it was for the grill. Never understood the joy of creating something, 'except for a mess'. Nana's words, not Abby's.

Abby is brought back to the present by Mildred softly taking her hand. Rubbing soothing circles on the back of Abby’s hand, Mildred gives her a soft smile. “I know it’s a lot. Come on, I’ll go with you.”

Abby looks down at the key in her hand, exhaling softly. With a final reassuring nod from Mildred, she opens the door and walks in, thankful she didn’t have to do this alone.

Looking around, she notices that not much has changed since she last was there. The same cake stands Nana got for Christmas when Abby was 8. Her favorite apron on the counter. Abby walks closer, fingers touching the worn fabric. How old was this thing even?

Feeling a single tear escape, Abby quickly wipe it away, looking at the rest of the store. Mildred turns on the light, the warm glow falling on the displays and the small tables in front. This place had always felt like home to Abby. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad? With a little cleaning and a little remodeling, it would be an amazing place.

The rest of the day Abby and Mildred cleans up in the bakery, removing a months’ worth of dust. As they unbox some new gear and put everything in order, they fall into a rhythm. The years of helping her grandmother is still there, like muscle memory.

Almost done, Abby turns to ask Mildred a question, but finds her smiling softly. Abby puts down the old order book, suddenly a bit shy. “What?”

“You just… remind me so much of Mary.” Mildred’s bottom lip quivers as tears fill her eyes. Abby had been holding back her tears all day, but hearing those words from Mildred makes her lose the fight. As the tears pour down her cheeks, Mildred takes Abby into her embrace.

They stay like that for a while, taking comfort in each other’s arms. No number of hugs could make them forget about Nana, but at least they have each other now.

The first week flies by in the blink of an eye. Abby is at the shop every day, trying to get the place ready for the big relaunch. All the walls get a fresh coat of paint. Nana had always loved natural colors, nothing to bright or bold. But it was time for a change. The shelves might keep their white color, but the walls were now beautiful teal.

As a true friend, Mildred was still team Nana and thought the color was too much. But eventually she admitted it wasn’t too bad. The same with the new tables for the little café corner. Red leather on the chairs, black tabletops. It was beautiful.

On the opposite side of the entrance, in the best Friends style, was a big orange couch, a little coffee table and a single chair. The space looked inviting, hopefully making people wanna stay for some coffee and cakes. And just to add a little bit of herself, Abby added some shelves with books. And lots of plants.

When Abby puts down the last pot of flowers on one of the small tables, she looks around. Bright and inviting, the colors making the place vibrant. The place had come alive again, felt like her space now.

But Nana’s spirit wasn’t gone. Far from it. Near the couch, she had made an entire wall with pictures. Nana on the opening day of the bakery, Abby herself on a small stool piping frosting on a cupcake, Nana in the window of the shop with a big smile as always. All of them were there. Nana, her father and his brothers, all the grandkids. An homage to the incredible life that Nana lived. Gone, but definitely not forgotten.

The next few weeks were a blur, so full of people. Some just stopped by to give their condolences to Abby. Most wanted to talk about Nana, share stories from the times they shared with her and how they missed her. Some seemed like they only came to see what had happened to the little bakery, a few muttered words about the colors being “a tad too much”.

But most were just there to stare at Abby. She wasn’t exactly new to town, but many hadn’t seen her in years and Abby could barely recognize them. But they were all kind, they really were. Offering advice, help and even wanting to get her involved in the community.

One thing Abby had always loved were slow mornings. Just time to enjoy her tea, looking at the sun rising, letting the sunlight soak into her pores. The ride from the house to the town was so beautiful, the nature more amazing than what she was used to from back home.

On her short walk from the parking lot to the shop, people actually waved to her, and the birds are chirping. Maybe she was too quick to judge this place? It wouldn’t be so bad.

She stops in front of the bakery, slowly pulling out her key, ready to start a new day.

“Mary always opened at 8.30.”

Startled, Abby looks to the side. She looks directly into a chest, having to look up to see his eyes. He's tall and broad, so broad. His hair is a little long and his beard a bit on the unruly side too. He honestly looks a bit intimidating. The way his dark eyes looks into hers, his jaw clenched as he looks impatient.

“I’m so sorry, I…” Abby tries softly, shaking her head before looking at the stranger again. “I was told that 9 was fine. Sorry.”

He just tilts his head slightly, looking at her. With a raised eyebrow, he gestures towards the door. Abby just nods, quickly opening the door and letting him in. As she scrambles to get the apron on and starting up the register, he just stands there, looking at her. She checks in with the worker that showed up early to start the baking, making sure everything is on track.

The entire time Abby can feel his eyes on her, almost burning into her skin. Whether its curiosity or annoyance, she doesn’t know. When everything is finally up and running, she looks up at him with a timid smile.

“So, what can I do for you?”

He steps closer to the counter, hands in his pockets. Abby can’t help but feel small compared to him, as he towers over her.

“This place still make that loaf with the corn crumble on top?” He asks, his deep voice causing Abby to lose all ability to speak for a moment.

“Ehm, yeah. I do. I mean, we do. Yes.” Abby blushes, feeling stupid. Why so flustered? It's just a guy. A handsome guy, but still. He breaks into a small smile.

“So… that’s a yes then?” he teases, and it only makes Abby blush even more. She just nods and when he asks for one, she quickly bags one for him.

“Anything else you’d like?”

“Chocolate chip cookies.”

He’s a man of few words, it seems. Abby just takes a bag and places on the counter, giving him the total. When he hands her the money, their fingers touch for just a second.

She looks into his eyes, beautiful brown like the tastiest chocolate. Abby hates to admit it, but there is something about that rugged man. He could use a haircut and a shave, but still…

Abby bites her lip, looking away as she takes the money and put them into the register. Brushing a strain of hair behind her ear, she feels herself get flustered as she looks up at him.

“Have a great day.”

He gives her a quick smile, barely there, before he turns towards the door. On his way out, Mildred meets him in the door. “Morning Frank. What brought you to town?”

He just lifts up the bags and walks out of the store. Abby can’t help but look at him as he walks away. “Who is he?”

“That, honey, is Frank Castle. We don’t really know much about him. Moved here a couple of years ago, keeps to himself. Rarely comes to town.” She shrugs a little, pouring herself a cup of coffee. “He was in the army, I believe. Marines, maybe. Now he works for Hammond Lumber Company.”

Abby looks out of the window, catching a glimpse of Frank before he disappears around the corner. He sure does have a great ass. Clearing her throat, turning her focus back to Mildred, she tries to look uninterested. “Lumber Company… So he’s a lumberjack?”

“Yes. And honey, I'm telling you. I might be an old woman, but you should see him chop wood. Even makes me break a sweat.” She giggles like a schoolgirl, playfully nudging Abby’s shoulder. Abby just smiles softly as she pours herself some tea.

She tries to straighten up a bit, getting ready for her customers to arrive. Keep her mind distracted. But her thoughts keep drifting back to the man from before. Frank Castle. Huh.

She couldn’t help but wonder if she would bump into him again.

Tagging: @e-dubbc11 @itwasthereaminuteago @theradioactivespidergwen @chvoswxtch @boliv-jenta @murdock-and-the-sea @mattmurdocksscars @lucy-sky @darlingshane @pedrito-friskito

#frank castle fanfiction #frank castle lumberjack AU #frank castle #frank castle x OCF! Abigail Miller #Whisk me away

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sunflowersandsapphires · 7 months

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Fall Drabbles, Day 7

prompt: flannel

pairing: Frank Castle x fem!reader

summary: Frank loves that you wear his clothes but would rather you stay warm when you're not feeling well.

warnings: swearing, brief non-graphic descriptions of illness, fluff

a/n: I keep warning for swearing but I don't even think these all have swearing lol. Anyways, another one in the Lumberjack!Frank AU!

w/c: <1k

Treading up the hill through the snow, Frank hefted the pile of freshly split logs to the top of the existing stack, except for the handful he carried under his arm and into the cabin. Kicking off his boots, he carefully placed two new logs into the dying fire, stirring the embers before replacing the screen as quietly as he could.

The house was dark, quiet—lacking the life that you usually brought to it. That was what he expected tonight, though. He'd been out later than usual, a cacophony of nightmares and intrusive thoughts plaguing his mind as he hacked into tree after tree. Combined with the fact that you were feeling under the weather, he was glad to come home to a silent house and a diminishing fire rather than an exhausted, yet awake, girlfriend.

Scrubbing a hand over his face, he plopped down on the sofa, snatching his current read from the end table as he sat. As he made his way through a few chapters, the growing heat from the flames pushed the chill from his aging bones. Shifting onto his side, a soft padding caught his attention. You shuffled out from his bedroom, rubbing your eyes with a yawn.

“Hiya, sleepyhead.” Frank murmured, catching you as you collapsed into his lap. “How're ya feelin'?“

Giving a half-hearted shrug, you nestled in against him. ”Little better.“ Your poor voice was scratchy and quiet as a mouse. He was overcome with the urge to whisk you back into the bedroom and bundle you up tightly—especially when he registered that your outfit was only a flannel shirt.

”Hmm, ya don't sound too good. Ain't ya chilly, sweetheart?“ He wrapped his arms around you, rubbing one hand over your exposed thigh in an attempt to warm you up.

Nodding against his neck, you shuddered. Frowning, Frank pressed a kiss to your head. “Why don't we get ya somethin' better to wear? Ya look adorable in my shirt, doll, but it ain't the warmest choice.”

Making a mournful noise of protest, you wrapped the soft fabric tightly around yourself. “I like it. It's soft, like you.”

Frank chuckled at the unique description of himself, hand still stroking your bare leg. “A'right, let's get ya some pants, at least.”

Gently setting you on your feet, Frank's heart swelled with a protective affection when you shyly took his hand as he led you to the bedroom. You looked so small in his massive shirt, arms completely dwarfed by the plaid sleeves

Finding his softest pair of sweats, he held them up. “How 'bout these?”

At your sleepy yet affirmative nod, he gestured for you to sit before slipping the pants over your legs. Tying the string tightly to prevent the oversized fabric from falling down, Frank perched next to you, holding you upright as a coughing fit bent you at the waist.

“Christ, doll, you ok?” In lieu of a response, you sighed roughly and let him put an arm around your sagging shoulders. “Why don't I make ya somethin’ hot to drink before we both get some rest?”

“Yes please.” You whispered, hoarsely. Kissing your cheek tenderly, Frank stood up and made for the door—only to be pulled back by your weak grip.

“Can I come?” Your voice cracked around the request and he winced as his own throat ached in sympathy.

“If you want to, darlin’,” He nodded, grasping your waist to help you off the bed.

Once in the kitchen, Frank got to work. Grabbing a lemon, some honey, and a bottle of whiskey from the pantry, he pulled you flush against him as the water started to boil—tucking your unusually warm head under his chin and drawing circles over your back.

Grimacing at the shrill whistle from the teapot, you withdrew from his comforting embrace, giving an insincere smile when he showed you the silly mug he’d set aside.

Frank made quick work of the task at hand, whipping up the hot toddy with ease and passing it to you. “Careful, darlin’, it’s hot.”

Nodding blearily, you gratefully accepted the mug, pulling it to your flannel-covered chest with a small sigh of relief. “Thank you.” You murmured, blowing on the liquid before taking a few small sips. Humming appreciatively, you closed your eyes.

“Anytime, babydoll.”

#frank castle #the punisher #frank castle x reader #frank castle x you #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle imagine #frank castle x female reader #the punisher x reader #the punisher imagine #punisher #nmcu #the punisher netflix #my writing #fc #fall prompts 2023

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wintersoldierslover · 2 years

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my fic recs masterlist

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Bucky Barnes:

all bucky barnes

headcanon - blurb - one-shot - series

dbf!bucky - brothers bff - bff’s brother

neighbour - housewife reader

lumberjack - firefighter - bodyguard

priest bucky - college

football player - hockey player - boxer

professor - teacher - librarian/bookshop

coffee shop - soulmate - royal

other AUs - taboo

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Stranger Things characters:

all eddie munson - all steve harrington

eddie and steve (x reader)

billy hargrove - jason carver - mike wheeler

dmitri enzo antonov - jim hopper

robin buckley - nancy wheeler

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Outer Banks Characters:

all Rafe Cameron

all JJ Maybank

Rafe Cameron and JJ Maybank (x reader)

Pope Heyward - Topper Thorton

John B. - Sarah Cameron

Kiara Carrera

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Marvel characters:

Wanda Maximoff - Kate Bishop

Natasha Romanoff - Yelena Belova

Peter Parker - Pietro Maximoff

Steve Rogers - Stephen Strange

Frank Castle - Matt Murdock

Moon knight - Steven Grant

Joaqín Torres - Clint Barton

Loki Laufeyson - Druig

Eddie Brock - Miles Morales

Miguel O’hara - Hobie Brown

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Harry Potter characters:

Sirius Black - Remus Lupin

James Potter - Poly!Marauders

Lily potter - Cedric Diggory

George Weasley - Fred Weasley

Severus Snape - Tom Riddle

Draco Malfoy

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Avatar (James Cameron) charachters:

neteyam - aonung - lo’ak

rotxo - kiri - spider

jake sully - neytiri - tsu’tey

tonowari - ronal - colonel quaritch

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Top Gun chracters:

Fanboy - Hangman - Rooster - Bob

Iceman

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Wednesday characters:

Xavier Thorpe - Ajax Petropolus

Wednesday Addams - Divina

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Bridgerton characters:

Anthony Bridgerton - Benedict Bridgerton

Colin Bridgerton

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Criminal Minds characters:

Spencer Reid - Aaron Hotchner

Derek Morgan

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The Last of Us characters:

Joel Miller - Ellie Williams

Abby Anderson

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The Devil All The Time characters:

Tommy Matson - Lee Bodecker

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Uncharted characters:

Nate Drake - Sam Drake

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Euphoria characters:

Elliot (Euphoria) - Fezco

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On My Block characters:

Mario Martinez - Oscar Diaz

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Modern Family characters:

Luke Dunphy - Alex Dunphy

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Ted Lasso:

Roy Kent - Jamie Tartt

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NHL players:

Matthew Ktachuk - Trevor Zegras

Nolan Patrick - Tyler Seguin

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Actors:

Sebastian Stan - Joseph Quinn

Jamie Campbell Bower - Danny Ramirez

Drew Starkey - Rudy Pankow

Ben Hardy - Bella Ramsey

Jenna Ortega

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Miscellaneous characters:

Eli ‘Hawk’ Moskowitz - Marcus Baker

Rodrick Heffley - Hunter Sylvester

Lloyd Hansen - Ari Levinson

Nick Fowler - Tangerine

Rhett Abbott - Hayden ‘Harvard Hottie’

Colin (Not Okay) - Min Ho (Xo, Kitty)

Ash (No Exit) - James Maguire (Derby Girls)

Jake Peralta - Nick Miller - Brian O’conner

Anakin Skywalker - Bruno Madrigal

Tadashi Hamada - Kakashi Hatake

---

Miscellaneous real people:

Billie Eilish - AEW Hook

---

*Updated whenever there’s a new character <3

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monstrousgourmandizingcats · 9 months

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Some books and stories that I think are worth reading in conversation with Yellowjackets

Shirley Jackson, all works but especially The Sundial, The Haunting of Hill House, and We Have Always Lived in the Castle. Jackson might or might not need any introduction in this fandom. The Sundial is her take on doomsday preppers, Hill House is of course her haunted house novel (one of the classics of that genre), and Castle has a female protagonist who makes Shauna look like a plaster saint.

Flannery O'Connor, The Violent Bear It Away. O'Connor's work has some of the most pervasive darkness and brutality of any major American writer (maybe Ambrose Bierce comes close), and the second of two novels that she completed before her death is no exception. (The first, Wise Blood, is also very good; the intended third, Why Do the Heathen Rage?, only exists as a fragmentary short story.) Francis Marion Tarwater is kidnapped and raised in the woods by his great-uncle, who is convinced that Francis is destined to be a prophet. The great-uncle's death commences a bizarre adventure involving auditory hallucinations, sinister truckers, an evil social worker, arson, developmental disabilities, and baptizing and drowning someone at the same time. Content warnings for all of the above plus rape. O'Connor is also a fairly racist author by today's standards--she was a white Southerner who died in 1964--so keep that in mind as well.

Ruth Ozeki, The Book of Form and Emptiness. Teenage protagonist is schizophrenic and also a channel for a genuinely supernatural force; well-intentioned but poorly-considered efforts to treat one of these issues make the other worse. Sound familiar? There are supporting characters who are affectionate parodies of Slavoj Zizek and Marie Kondo. A minor character is a middle-aged lesbian who cruises dating apps for hookups with much younger women. Some people find this book preachy and overwritten, but I really like it and would plug it even if I didn't because the author is someone whom I've met and who has been supportive of my own writing.

Yukio Mishima, The Decay of the Angel. Can be read in translation or in the original Japanese. This is the fourth and last book in a series called The Sea of Fertility but I wouldn't necessarily recommend the first three as particularly YJ-ish; Decay is because it deals at great length with issues of doubt and ambiguity about whether or not a genuinely held, but personally damaging, spiritual and religious belief is true. There's also more (as Randy Walsh would put it) lezzy stuff than is usual for Mishima, a gay man. Content warnings for elder abuse, sexual abuse of both children and vulnerable adults in previous books in the series, forced abortion in the first book if you decide to read the whole thing from the beginning, and the fact that in addition to being a great novelist the author was also a far-right political personality.

Howard Frank Mosher, Where the Rivers Flow North. An elderly Vermont lumberjack and his Native American common-law wife refuse to sell their land to a development company that wants to build a hydroelectric power plant. Tragedy ensues. I haven't read this one in a long time but some images from the movie stick in my mind as YJ-y. Lots of fire, water, and trees.

Leonard Cohen, Beautiful Losers. Yes, this is the same Leonard Cohen who later transitioned into songwriting and became a household name in that art form. Beautiful Losers is a very weird, very horny novel that he wrote as a young man; it deals with the submerged darkness and internal tension within Canadian and specifically Quebecois society. One of the main characters is Kateri Tekakwitha, a seventeenth-century Iroquois convert to Catholicism who was probably a lesbian in real life (although Cohen unfortunately seems unaware of this). This one actually shows up YJ directly; the song "God Is Alive, Magic Is Afoot" that plays in the season 2 finale takes its lyrics from a particularly strange passage.

Monica Ojeda, Jawbone. Can be read in translation or in the original Spanish. Extremely-online teenage girls at a posh bilingual Catholic high school in Ecuador start their own cult based on such time-honored fodder as Herman Melville novels, internet creepypasta (no, this book does not look or feel anything like Otherside Picnic), and their repressed but increasingly obvious desire for one another. The last part in particular gets the attention of their English teacher, whose own obsessive internalized homophobia grows into one of the most horrifying monstrous versions of itself I've ever read. Content warning for just about everything that could possibly imply, but especially involuntary confinement, religious and medical abuse, and a final chapter that I don't even know how to describe. Many thanks to @maryblackwood for introducing me to this one.

Jorge Luis Borges, lots of his works but especially "The Aleph," "The Cult of the Phoenix," and "The South." Can be read in translation or in the original Spanish. The three works I list are all short stories. The first deals with mystical experiences and the comprehensibility (or lack thereof) of the universe, the second with coded and submerged references to sexuality in general and homosexuality in particular, the third with leaving your well-appointed city home for a ranch in the middle of nowhere and almost immediately dying in a knife fight, which is surely a very YJ series of things to do.

H.P. Lovecraft, "The Colour out of Space," "The Dunwich Horror," "The Dreams in the Witch House," and "The Thing on the Doorstep." Lovecraft in general needs no introduction--the creepiness, the moroseness, the New Englandness, the purple heliotrope prose, his intense racism (recanted late in life but not in time to make any difference in his reception history) and the way his work reflects his fear of the Other. These short stories are noteworthy for having settings that are more woodsy and less maritime than is usual for Lovecraft's New England, for overtones of the supernatural rather than merely the alien, for featuring some of his few interesting female characters, and for their relative lack of obvious racial nastiness. Caveat lector nevertheless.

Herman Melville, Moby-Dick. It's Moby-Dick. Once you realize that Captain Ahab is forming a cult around the whale and his obsession with it you can't unrealize it.

#yellowjackets #books #book recs

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bubuslutty · 1 year

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Bambi with fangs

part 2, all parts

Moodboard

pairing: lumberjack! frank castle x (mutant) vampire fem!reader

word count: 2.6k

tags: attempted sa not from Frank tho obvs, typical Frank violence, mutants exist, (kinda) drug use and substance abuse, tell me if I missed anything

warning: attempted sa, violence (Frank beats the shit out of a bunch of people, no killing tho), blood

Summary: Frank wanted someone to bring a little bit of excitement to his boring yet peaceful life. Maybe someone who wasn't scared of anything, who could handle being with him and his bloody baggage of violence and death that he still has to drag around with him. But what he was not expecting, was to end with an armful of mutant, all fangy and pretty with blood running down her nose and chin.

a/n: I am NOT from the US, so I apologise in advance for using the wrong terms for things. I just want to write a fic of Frank having his own fangy gf okay??? even though he's a lumberjack, there's not much details abt his life here, but all of that will be explored in part 2, hopefully 🤞

Frank took a deep breath, feeling his overworked muscles ache and joints snap. He rubbed his face and placed his hat on the counter, raising two fingers to order two beers.

Frank was alone by the bar as usual, straight out of work and tired as hell. He really should be home by now, showering, making himself something to eat and throwing himself in bed to get some hours in before he goes to work tomorrow. But he always finds himself in the grim bar in town, drinking until Josie refuses to give him any more beer and reminds him he has to drive home.

Frank wonders why he keeps finding himself sitting at a stool, hunched over his drink and mulling over his boring yet peaceful life. Maybe he secretly yearns for something, or someone to disrupt his routine. To bring something along the way, be it a bit of excitement, love or even lust, Frank’s tired of lying to himself that he's just content living as a virgin lumberjack, even if he chose to live that way.

There are people in town, both men and women who have expressed their interest in him. Frank always politely declined their advances, not because he found them undesirable, but simply because he was still a dangerous man, even if he ran as far as he could from his old life. He doesn’t have the heart to drag anyone in and one day wake up to death at his doorstep. If he wants to let someone in and let them be associated with him, Frank wants them to be capable of protecting themselves from anything. It’s all Frank asks for.

Over the music playing from the old jukebox, Frank heard the commotion near the toilets. He looked over his shoulder and saw multiple shadows casting over the wall, but no bodies as they were all behind the corner. Frank turned to Josie, who was serving some other clients and she didn’t seem like she heard anything, but neither did anyone else.

Frank felt like he had to stand up and go see what was going on. And he did. Frank gulped down the rest of his second beer and wiped his lips with the back of his hand, grabbing his hat and placing a few bills on the counter. He quickly looked over his shoulder and turned over the dark corner leading to the toilets.

The first thing he saw was a group of men talking in hushed voices, well, they thought they were talking in hushed voices but Frank could hear their voices clearly.

“What do we do?”

“I think I saw her before, isn’t she famous?”

“What would a famous person do in our shithole of town, idiot?”

“She’s pretty, prettier than your girlfriend, huh?”

“Is she breathing? She looks out of it.”

Then he saw her, slumped on the floor against the wall, hair on her face, blood running her nose and staining her lips and chin. She was wearing a pink lace bralette under a cropped jean jacket, jean shorts with a belt and silver-heeled boots. The stranger was also wearing necklaces, bracelets and earrings, all glinting every time a car zoomed in front of the bar and the light rushed in through the windows.

Frank noticed the men shuffling closer and noticed the second their looks changed and body tensing up. His stomach would’ve dropped if he was anyone else but all Frank felt was a wave of violent disgust and he acted before his brain could catch up.

“What are you doing?”

The men flinched and turned around, eyes wide at being caught red-handed.

“Oh, it’s just the weird guy who works for Marco.”

“Listen, man, this is none of your business.”

Frank clenched his jaw, his index finger twitching and eyes glaring daggers at the disgusting men.

“Leave her alone.” Frank said, voice deep and gruff.

One of the men glared at Frank, “Look man, we clearly don’t want you here, so how about you get the fuck out of here?”

“Hey, calm down.” Another guy said to his hostile friend, turning to Frank with raised hands, in mock peace.

“Or you can have a piece, how’s that?” He said, grinning and making Frank even more starving to punch the man’s face in until his own mother can’t recognise him.

“Get her inside.” Frank said, lifting his chin towards the men’s toilets and making them snicker.

As the men dragged her unconscious body inside, Frank grabbed his phone from his pocket and quickly sent a text before shoving it back in his pocket.

Me: it’s urgent

Me: walk down to Josie's and don’t tell May

When the men dragged her inside the toilets and closed the door, they placed her in a sitting position against the wall and then looked up at Frank expectantly.

Frank held eye contact with them as he slowly unbuckled his belt and they started snickering again but their snickers quickly died out when Frank started wrapping his belt around one of his knuckles.

“What are you doing?..”

Frank calmly washed his bloody hands in one of the sinks and glanced in the mirror, at the heap of bloody and unconscious men on the floor.

He turned to the woman and saw her move her fingers, struggling to open her eyes. Frank walked over and kneeled next to her, “Hey, can you open your eyes?”

The woman groaned and slowly opened her eyes, struggling to focus them on the man in front of her.

“Who are you?” She asked, voice rough.

“Frank. I’m Frank, and what's your name? Do you know where you are?” Frank asked, grabbing her arm when he saw he try pushing her body up from the floor.

“Careful, you’re drunk.” He reminded her, keeping a tight grip on her arm as she struggled to stand up straight.

“I’m not drunk.” She said, squinting her eyes at him and walking towards the door, trying and failing to grab the doorknob.

“Sure you’re not.” Frank muttered and twisted the doorknob open for her, and she started walking down the little corridor on wobbly legs, away from the toilets.

He was about to ask about her name, or just escort her outside so she can get some fresh air and sober up, and hopefully call someone, a friend or family member to pick her up when she stopped dead in her tracks, falling back on Frank’s chest.

“Careful.” He grabbed her shoulders so she wouldn’t fall to the side and crack her head.

But then he noticed her terrified face and frowned, “Are you okay?”

“No- Can you uh, look if there’s a man with blond hair and a beard? He’s tall- And he- Can you just check for me, please?” She pleaded and Frank nodded.

He kept a hold on one of her arms so she wouldn’t slip and die and he looked around the corner and there he was, the man she described accompanied by 3 other men as he spoke to Josie.

“Have you seen a girl around here? She’s about this tall and drives a pink car.” The man asked Josie who shook her head, “Sorry, haven’t seen anyone with that description.”

“Are you sure? Because we saw her car outside your bar?”

Frank turned to look at the woman when he heard a gasp come out of her.

“That’s my car you’re talking about, asshole!” An old woman angrily said from the back of the bar, making her friends glare at the strange men.

The men looked at each other and thanked Josie before leaving the bar.

“I want to leave-” The woman choked out and Frank’s eyes widened when her body hunched over and she coughed violently, spitting blood at her feet.

“Hey, hey-” Frank held the woman’s body up when her knees gave out and her head rolled to the side, limbs limp and sweat breaking out of her flawless skin.

Frank acted quickly and removed his flannel, wrapping it around her body and placing his hat on her head. His phone suddenly rang and he cursed under his breath, digging the device out of his pocket and holding it to his ear.

“Are you here? Meet me at the backdoors.” Frank said.

“Meet you at the- Frank what did you do?” A younger man said on the phone.

“Just meet me outside.” Frank said and hung up, ignoring the man’s protests over the phone.

Frank looked around and walked with the unconscious woman at his side, an arm wrapped around her waist while one of her arms was around his neck. He walked to the back of the bar, and luckily nobody saw them, then he pushed the backdoor with his shoulder.

The cold air of the night made him let out a shaky breath as soon as he stepped outside. Frank leaned against the wall, letting the woman’s weight rest on his side as he looked around.

“Frank, what did you do?” A scared voice suddenly asked.

It was a young man with big brown eyes and brown hair sticking from his beanie, staring at Frank and the unconscious woman with wide eyes.

“Peter, I swear this isn’t what it looks like.” Frank said, digging a hand in one of his pockets and taking out his keys and throwing them to Peter who caught them without looking.

“Can you get my truck and I’ll explain?” Frank said, still holding the woman upright.

“You have blood on your shirt.” Peter said, pointing at the drops of blood on Frank’s shirt, obviously not his.

“Peter, please.” Frank gritted through his teeth and the young man glared at him and turned around to go get his truck around.

“Are you going to explain to me who’s this woman? Is she unconscious? Dead? And why do you have blood on your shirt?” Peter asked from the driver’s seat while Frank was sitting on the passenger’s seat, supporting the woman’s weight on him, her legs over his thighs and head against his chest.

“I don’t know who she is. I found her unconscious at Josie’s near the toilets.” Frank told Peter.

“And the blood?” Peter asked, glancing at the woman on his friend’s lap.

“Bunch of assholes were going to take advantage of her.” Frank spit out and Peter tightened his hold on the steering wheel, clenching his jaw.

“Did you kill them?” Peter asked and Frank glanced at the young man.

“No.”

And silence fell between them for long time before Peter asked, “Why are we taking her to your place and not to the police station?”

“Some people were looking after her. And we don’t know if she even wants to go to the cops in the first place.” Frank said making Peter nod in understanding.

When Peter parked the truck in front of Frank’s place, he ran to unlock the front door of Frank’s house and turned on the lights so the other could carry her inside. Luckily Frank lives next to the woods, far from the other houses so nobody saw them.

“Why do I feel like I’m doing something illegal? If I get in trouble, I’m telling May it’s all your fault.” Peter said, closing the door and taking off his beanie to run his hand through his brown hair.

“Can you get me a wet washcloth? She’s burning up.” Frank said and Peter walked to the kitchen while the strange woman was laying on the couch. Frank removed his flannel from around her body and threw it to the side, then her jean jacket in an attempt to cool her body down.

“Here.” Peter gave Frank the washcloth and watched Frank move her hair out of her face and gasped when he finally noticed the drying blood on her nose, lips and chin.

“What happened to her? That’s a lot of blood…” Peter said watching Frank wipe as much blood as he could with the washcloth, and then use the clean side to dab her forehead.

Frank then used his other hand to feel around her face, especially her nose. “It’s not broken… I can’t tell if she had a really bad nosebleed or if this blood is not even hers.”

“Not hers? How can you get someone else’s blood in your nose?” Peter frowned at the man’s words and jumped when the woman suddenly opened her eyes.

The woman blinked up at the ceiling, and then abruptly sat up and hissed, holding her head in her hand. Frank and Peter watched her in silence as if as soon as they make a noise they’ll scare her like a frightened deer.

“Where- Where am I?” She hissed, looking around the room frantically, cheeks flushed with the fever and eyes watering with the onslaught of light.

“You’re in my house, remember me? Frank?” Frank spoke as gently as possible while Peter watched her with wide eyes.

The woman frowned in confusion before realisation finally dawned on her, “I remember you. You’re the guy who- who- ” She approached Frank and sniffed the air around him, eyes glancing down at the blood on his shirt.

“You didn’t kill them.” She said with surprise.

Frank didn’t know what to say so he looked at Peter, who was even more confused and slightly scared than he was.

The strange woman stood up but her legs immediately wobbled and she almost fell face first but Peter luckily grabbed her.

“Take it slow, Bambi.” Frank scolded, hands hovering in the air.

However, the woman didn’t seem like she heard Frank and was looking up at Peter with wide eyes.

“You smell really nice.” She pointed out.

“What?”

The woman stood up straight, well, as much as she could while using the couch as support.

“Uhm, sorry about that. I don’t know what’s wrong with me…” She quickly said, scratching her neck and breathing deeply.

“Look, you’re still drunk so sit down.” Frank sighed and stood up to drag her to sit down or she’ll fall, crack her head open and die in his living room.

“I’m not drunk.” She fiercely hissed at him and Frank’s eyes widened when he saw two unnaturally sharp canines glinting between her pink glossy lips.

“I think I’ve got a lethal dose of drugs in my system.” She muttered, scratching her neck and walking around the living room on still wobbly legs, looking for something to drink.

“Lethal dose of- Frank, we have to go to the hospital right now.” Peter said mildly terrified and very concerned.

“No! I don’t need to go to the hospital!” She shouted, whipping her head towards the two frozen men.

“You’re going to die.” Frank said.

“No, I won’t. Just tell me where’s your fridge.” She said.

“How are you so sure it’s not going to kill you? You can’t even walk straight.” Frank frowned and got up, walking over to his kitchen while Peter just stood there, gawking at her and the fangs he saw a couple of seconds ago.

“You haven’t figured it out yet? I’m a vampire, a type of mutant.” She said, bringing her fingers to pull her lip up and expose sharp canines.

Frank’s eyes widened and she scoffed, “Don’t look at me like that, he’s a mutant as well, this shouldn’t be news to you.”

She walked up to him and nudged him to the side and started rummaging through the fridge.

“How did you?-” Peter looked mortified but also incredibly intrigued at the same time.

“Smelled you.” She quickly answered before completely inhaling a beer bottle seconds.

Frank watched her drink all of the beers in his fridge, one after the other without breaks to even breathe. When she drank all of them, she closed the fridge and held Frank by the shoulder, “Sorry about your beers, but gotta flush the drugs out of my system somehow.”

“Who are you?” Peter managed to finally ask.

The woman looked at him and then glanced back at Frank’s perplexed face, “You can call me Bambi, for now.”

tag list (pls ask to be added or removed): @awkwardalie @enretrogue @itwasthereaminuteago @snowkestrel

Here's also a small treat I found on Pinterest (LOOK AT JON'S BEARD WHAAAA)

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bernthirst-events · 10 months

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BEARDTHAL BASH 2023

Hello fellow Bernthirsters!

After starting the year with a bang of gorgeous Jontent, we are finally back with a brand-new event.

We are making it extra special, since the “main character” of this event will be Jon’s infamous Beard (yes, it deserves a capital B). There won’t be a theme a day this time. The only rule will be that whatever you create MUST include the Beard. Shave it off? Grow it longer? Pull on it? Burn from it? Everything is up to YOU!

Since we didn’t do anything last September, we chose to have this event around his birthday month to celebrate the man we all love and thirst over.

To help with inspiration, we included a list of prompts below.

Ready? Set… Thirst!

SUGGESTED PROMPTS: Beard Burn, Stubble, Grooming, Beard & Curls, Trimming, Petting the beard, Beard products, Not a hipster, Lumberjack, On the lam, New Identity, Beard Contest, Beard Challenge, Prickling hairs, Flowery beard, Tangled, Barbershop, Shaving accident, Cozy, Scruffy, Fluffy, Bushy, Goatee, Grey Hairs…

BEARDED CHARACTERS: Frank Castle, Sam Rossi, Griff, The Mute, Swaino, Michael Berzatto. (You don't have to stick to these, you can easily give Shane a beard if you want.)

Deadline: September 18 - September 24.

Tumblr Tag: BeardthalBash

AO3 Collection: BeardthalBash2023

POSTING GUIDELINES

#jon bernthal #the punisher #the walking dead #the bear fx #the bear #daredevil #frank castle #shane walsh #sweet virginia #sam rossi #pilgrimage #mod post #beardthal bash 2023 #info post

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twinklelilstarkey · 2 years

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the fact that i haven't found an AU lumberjack!frank castle fic in my morning binge-reading is rude... our man (jon) doesn't have the perfect pics with longer hair, beard, and even plaid shirts for this to not exist... anyone, pls, i will die happy.

#rita talks to herself #i am asking this bc i know that i would never be able to master such a craft #this fandom is too talented for me to even try to get my hands in it

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the-firebird69 · 8 months

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I'd rather GT Bradley what it means is the max and our people that's supposed to get hurt in them that's what Dave was saying and you guys don't get the code but Bradley the one who punched our son in the nose and it also means like Brad and Lee in other words to nail the rebels but only with little brads. And that's what it means and it means something different to the max no they don't really like the car but we like it cuz we use it backwards and people want to see us do it

Frank Castle Hardcastle

It's unreal your own brother did it you kind of knew about it then we get that but he says ultimately he was after us with his robotics in the ships and was starting to see that it's amazing so I might start producing my own version with the Volkswagen bug we have a ton of them Australia

Brad I do see how the original one was and it makes more sense it's very fast in that format but the windows horrendous it's like a hatchback and this way to do it and it looks really cool and make a little window and it stretches back it's intense and it molded a little I said it wouldn't hurt a little bit you going faster than the speed of sound it keeps the line. They might do that too and they're looking at it and it works and the inlet is going to be small and yeah you got a depressurize it and the wheel wells and the size has to be recommended and the offset and so forth strength I don't like it going with a solid top and is reinforcing for the VW so I got almost all of it I'm going to go ahead and try and make one and there's so many Volkswagens here and certain colors go with it yeah yellow does not go with the color that they had it goes with some blue note red goes with red and it goes with dark green and it goes with nothing else

Brad

Nothing Brad and okay talking to myself here said no you're trying to look prettier and prettier and everybody's noticing and Brad's could probably get beat up that's very funny

Becka oops

Oh yeah and no I'm not playing Queen Elizabeth I don't have to look like her that's very fun. I think I like this car and they're trying to get Cannon Ken potato and they're trying to get the big guys and they need some funding they say and they're right there so they'll probably do it this might work yeah he only makes 20% because they're funding it so they like the way he's doing it real cheapo Depot but very high tech and very well done and all aftermarket parts you can order it online this is great these things are really cool but you know what this is going to be a supercar according to modern standard and if they don't let you in the club they're going to lose the race and that's what we're up to you

Sarah

and we shall call her a Queen Sarah

Zues

What the hell yeah it's kind of funny so I'm kind of yelling at him he's going could you stop yelling at me I can't hear a damn thing in this coconut. So we can have a lot of fun but I want to try and get this going I've got his idea and I can get Ken to do stuff and my husband says Ken has to try the seat of the VW bug that's the first goal because his character has a special butt and it has to be treated correctly and we don't want to mess with the goods so I'm going to check it and have security team looking at it

Hera

My security team will look into it and yeah they're watching my ass and someone before it's nice it's cushy and doesn't squish down I'm pretty sure it's a winner it's not like the Porsche when you sat in the Porsche said I can't feel my ass I sat in the VW and I said this is nice it's a good thing to leave the seats

Ken

Go ahead with this idea and it's so cool I have to start now

Joe I'm going to work on your pancake House idea in the big cup of joe these are all things that would sell liquidy split fast as hell and this guy needs tons of money and sitting here looking at him wondering what to do he has put a lumberjack cap on you'll figure it out so we have an investor over there

Literally we are in trouble and we need to do stuff and this is when I did and this is one idea it's really good one this car would fly and then he would make a bigger one for the chassis I was talking about but he has to start with the Volkswagen cuz some sort of psychological Fandango I'm going to start talking like him if we keep doing this but really his brother was talking some real smack and his brother was talking some smack back I can't believe how awful it is but they're both telling their people about it for Christ's sake. So I'd like to move on this car and Ken has the idea and we do talk it's kind of a go ahead permission slip to make money off it because you kind of telling him without saying it and we're moving on it

Mac

It says you can buy a Volkswagen and change it if it gets any money so we buy a Volkswagen for five grand drive around and said I can't stand it people call me German I had to turn it into the sports car that's kind of funny

Ken

Yeah the old stigmatism stigma and we can do it too but really we're going to have a lot of fun this sounds like fun and he wants us on board he's been saying it and it looks like it'll work even during the chaos and speaking of which the huge fleet is moving off and heading towards Tommy f to get the stupid s*** out of here

Black God and Black Goddess

You may think it's funny but we need a purple one we'd like to get it going and you say you need help those Volkswagens would do very nicely out here even the kit with the Hummer it is better because it would be rear wheel drive and works in the dirt all the time and the tires get out of most stuff or you can pull it out I'm going to look into it and into making the kit and he says terrific make the kit over there and sell it over here too we'll set up a factory and it'll be built and you'll be making the profits a lot of it because you'll be the first one to do it I'm going to get going on it now it's great for the sand

Gu Oya we have a crap load of them they are all say this racist stuff and the Humvee is also kind of a racist thing so we're going to go ahead and we're going to put this together we have people over here and Shaquille O'Neal wants to do it and I doesn't know he's already on the code it's been on it for a long time what's out in that western movie with Garth oops Garth he went the wrong way

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joannasteez · 2 years

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i watched a vid of a lumberjack and now i want lumberjack!Frank😫

#lumberjack #frank castle #stop giving me things to think about internet

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 5 months

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the wood

lilac, chapter twelve

a/n: *the author's note equivalent of just ✨moaning✨*

summary: the sight that beheld you once you stepped out onto the porch had all of the air slip out of your lungs all at once.

warnings: lumberjack!frank castle x reader, smut, lumberjack AU, past domestic violence, crazy ex trope, chopping wood, kissing, dirty talk, size kink, manhandling, belly bulge, outdoor sex, oral, multiple orgasms, cockwarming, squirting, mirror sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (because this is just porn. no one is getting pregnant, I’m just craving the intimacy. let them be hoes and live out the fantasy)

word count: 5200

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

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Stirring awake with a gentle groan, your arm extended in search of the body beside you. Finding nothing but linens, your eyes groggily blinked open to discover that no one else was in the bed but yourself.

Tugging your arm back under your frame, you sighed and let your front sink further into the mattress, your cheek buried itself deeper into the pillow just a moment longer before you pushed yourself up to a sitting position.

Swinging your legs over the side, you reached for the grey woollen socks you’d kicked off in the middle of the night. As you slipped them back onto your feet, your gaze caught your reflection in the round rattan-framed mirror hanging on the opposing wall.

Letting your eyes linger, turning your head from side to side, you made sure that the recently faded bruises hadn’t somehow returned to haunt you of what had occurred. But thankfully, all you saw was skin. No marks, no scrapes, no bruises, nothing physical to remind you of Preston.

Getting up, you caught the muted dark brown flannel that hung by the collar from one of the dresser’s knobs, and shrugged it on, doing up the buttons so the borrowed shirt covered you further.

Pitter-pattering out into the small kitchen, you turned on the tap and reached for a glass, swiftly filling it up for a refreshing sip.

As you lowered the drink from your lips, a satisfying cracking noise from somewhere outside found your ears and your gaze flickered to the cabin’s front door.

The sight that beheld you once you stepped out onto the porch had all of the air slip out of your lungs all at once.

Just a little ways off from the hut stood Frank by a wide and sturdy stump, split wood littering around his feet as he repeatedly let the long axe in his grasp come down upon the piece balanced on the reliable base.

Utterly hypnotised, your feet hazily carried you across the porch till your fingers were gripping onto the railing. Clad in a simple grey undershirt, the sight of the prominent veins in his arms bulging, straining at every violent hack till the thick log split, caused your brain to melt, and the fact that the hem slightly rose every time as well didn’t help matters either.

Each one of his precise swings conjured a laboured huff that sounded way too close to how he had been panting in your ear just last night. Occasionally, small curses too slipped through his puffs whenever the wood he worked on got particularly stubborn, and every time, without a doubt, you felt your cunt clench.

As one log split, forcefully crashing to either side, he picked up a new one, but before he could crack it open, he rested the axe a second against his leg while he let a dollop of spit fall from his panting lips to his calloused palms, rubbing it in for better traction before he picked up the axe once more.

Tingles pricked and tickled every nerve in your body as his sinful display eventually came to a close. The soft sunlight that streamed through the treetops caught a glint of the sweat gleaming on the part of his rapidly rising and falling chest that peaked out of the neckline of his tank, dabbling his skin like diamonds.

Wedging his axe into the base stump, you continued to stare as Frank caught his breath and bent over to gather up the wood into the wide woven basket that too was at his feet, his gaze swiftly spotting your dazed form, nearly drooling at this point.

“Oh, hey,” he smiled, offering you a small wave as he tossed a few pieces of firewood into the crate.

“Huh?” still in a trance, you blinked, your teeth digging into your bottom lip as your thighs squeezed together in an attempt at soothing the persistent pulse that now throbbed between them.

“You’re up.”

“Yep, I–, uhm, I am,” you shook your head, trying and failing to clear it, “morning.”

“I’m sorry,” he picked up the heavy basket, “did I wake you?”

“Nope, no, you didn’t,” you let a sinful exhale as he climbed the steps of the porch. Redirecting your gaze elsewhere as he set the firewood down, you stared out at the forest and coughed, “there, uh, sure are a lot of birds out today.”

“Hm,” the porch creaked beneath his boots as he neared where you stood, “is that what you were staring at?”

“Yeah, why, did you not think I was? Was there something else going on here in the forest that could possibly capture my attention other than mother nature herself?” you joked, knowing full well how obvious the truth was, “I am Dunbrook’s resident birdwatcher after all.”

“Sure, you are,” a shiver ran down your spine as his deep voice rumbled in your ear. Wrapping his burly arms around your waist, you leaned back into his warmth as he gently checked, “how are you feeling today?”

“I’m alright, pretty good actually,” you answered the question he had formed a habit of asking you every morning you’d stayed here, “I slept quite well, so that always helps things,” turning in his embrace to face him, you wrapped your arms around his neck and wondered, “how long have you been up?”

“Not long,” his gaze traced yours, following as it yearningly flickered down to his mouth.

“You hungry?”

Drawing you in closer, you heard him utter, “fucking starving…” before he captured your lips in a kiss.

A little dazed from how rapidly the simple peck escalated, you pulled back to politely pant, “oh, yeah? What are you in the mood for?”

Flashing you a smirk, he cocked his head and said, “what do you think I wanna eat?” and if his tone didn’t manage to squash any ounce of doubt you had that he wasn’t in fact talking about food, the sensation of his hands sinking down to palm your bottom though the flannel made it crystal clear.

“Frank,” you giggled as his fingertips discovered your lack of underwear.

“What?” you watched as he slowly sank down onto his knees before you, “is what a no?” his eyes stayed glued to yours as his beard tickled your thigh.

“No,” your legs gently wiggled further apart, letting him spot the glint of your want that had dripped down your inner thighs.

“No, it’s not a no, or no, you’re in the mood for something else?” you sucked in a sharp breath as his ghosting touch teased your goosebump-ridden legs, “because I think we still have a bit of bread left or there might be some leftovers in the fridge.”

Losing track of all of the metaphors through the fuzzy haze his teasing touch set you in, you mumbled, “I–, what?” and a small whine then fell from your lips, “fuck… Frank, I–… can you just–, please?”

“I can do a lot of things, sweetheart,” he pressed a peck to the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, “what do you want me to do?”

“Oh my god,” you sighed, an airy chuckle flowing from your lips as you threw you head back and gazed up at the fluffy clouds visible above the rusty roof, “you’re such an ass.”

“Ah, I can be a lot worse, don’t you worry,” his devilish hands slithered up to your bottom and lightly raked his short fingernails over each cheek.

You sounded downright pathetic as you pleaded, “can you please–,“ but his playful tone cut you off before it flourished into a full sentence.

“Yeah?”

Blinking down at him, you desperately hiked the oversized shirt further up and asked, “…eat me out?”

Grin growing wider, he didn’t hesitate before diving in. Cracking you further open for him, he hoisted your left thigh up onto his broad shoulder and buried his face in your want. Holding you steady with one hand digging into your ass and the other firm at your hip, he zealously parted your petals and felt your pulse pound against his eager tongue.

As he then brazenly sucked down on your clit, your fingers sought out his dark hair, gripping it tight as your eyes fluttered, “oh my god, tha-that feels so good!”

With your brows tightly knitted together, as your eyes blinked down to meet his ever-unwavering gaze, you couldn’t stop yourself from letting go at a record-breaking time, the show you had imbibed in earlier not aiding in drawing your conclusion out. Trembling above, your legs tried to close around him, but the sensation of your thighs pressing against his thick skull didn’t face him one bit as he only held you tighter and kept up his keen kisses.

Back arched against the railing, your chest rose and fell rapidly as Frank twisted his head to place pecks along your inner thigh, the soft flutter only issued a stubborn clench to your cunt in desire for more.

Hooking your grip in the fabric of his shirt, you pulled him back up and desperately crashed your lips against his, feeling your desire sodden in his beard and tasting your adoration on his tongue.

“Alright,” he dreamily disconnected from your needy kiss, “but seriously now,” he drew in a methodical breath through his nose as if in an attempt to calm his own desires down enough before he asked, “what do you want for breakfast?” clearly assuming that the morrow coitus wouldn’t go any further.

Puffing out a hazy grin, you simply let your palm drop to the tent in his trousers and leaned back in to utter against his lips, “I don’t care what’s for breakfast,” your touch tightened insistently over the clear imprint of his desire, “just shut up and fuck me.”

A silent and amazed laugh slipped out past his lips as you tugged at his waistband, “yes, ma’am,” stealing one last kiss before he spun you back around. Grasping onto the railing, your hazy gaze washed over the idyllic scenery as you felt Frank free his length and sweep it through your dripping folds, nudging persistently against your pearl before gliding down to catch your entrance with his tip.

The morning sunlight dazzled in the lake beyond, glittering and flickering just like the sparks that buzzed inside of you.

Giving you just an inch, you felt your forms sigh in unison, your breaths harmoniously synced in satisfaction.

“Did I tell you how good you look in my shirt?” his low timbre crackled in your ear like a warm fire as he slowly rolled his hips, deliberately taking his time, letting you worship every maddening detail of his cock, “because you do,” you felt his palms snake up to squeeze your tits through the flannel, “feel free to steal them any time you want.”

Mouth agape, your head fell back against his chest as shaky moans slipped out at every unhurried rock to his hips.

“You sure it’s not the lack of anything underneath that you like so much?” you grinned, your hips rolling back against his deliberate efforts.

“Well, I’m certainly not complaining about that part,” he chuckled and pressed his lips to your neck, “I think you might be able to get me to do anything you wish dressed exactly like this.”

“Oh yeah?” your giggle broke up your moans, “anything I wish?”

“Mhm,” he hummed gravelly, his fingers nimbly undoing a few of the buttons and granting his grasp access to slip in and seep across your tingly flesh, “fucking anything…”

Sinking in deeper with every gentle thrust, your left hand lowered and began to draw tight circles over your clit as the other’s grip tightened around the railing, your nails leaving crescent-shaped imprints in the raw wood.

But when his lips began to wander across the side of your neck in a way that made you feel as if he was kissing every millimetre of your body, that’s when you felt your legs begin to tremble once more. The intensity of his slow pace began to grow within you, nearly being too much for you to take, so when his fingers sought out your pebbly nipples in a dizzying pinch, that’s when your frame jerked, Frank’s throbbing girth sliding out of you from just how hard you were squeezing down on him, and as your front collided with the fence, your fingertips furiously kept up their pace and kept your orgasm going, convulsing for all of the flora and fauna to see.

Leaning with your folded-up arms against the top of the banister, Frank’s burly arms, which were still enveloped around you, tightened as you felt the warmth of his front melt against your curved spine. Letting one of your hands drop, it swiftly found his and weaved itself with it as you drew it up higher to press it against your thumping heart. Though when your pulse began to calm, you raised your tangled fingers further, all the way up so that your lips could press against the back of his palm.

As you slowly unfurled your form, your fluttery kisses gently danced up his arm till you found yourself facing him once more with your lips attached to his collarbone.

His bulbous tip leaked against the few buttons that were still fastened on the shirt you wore and his wide palms slid down past your waist to knead your bottom and draw you that much closer.

Shuffling your feet, you gently pushed against his brick house of a frame for him to shift as well. Backing up, you crossed the short width of the porch till the back of Frank’s knees bumped into the solid bench that sat flush against the exterior wall. As he buckled and planted himself on it, it only took half a second for you to curl into his lap.

Grabbing the sides of your face and bringing you into a sloppy kiss, you snaked a hand down between your frames and seized his dick. A low moan vibrated against your tongue as you raised up your hips and rubbed his hardness against your slick a moment before slowly sinking down, his lips falling from yours as you did so. Gazing back at him through your lashes, you saw as his eyes stayed shut, his mouth hung agape and his head gently fell back against the wall, the sensation of your warmth enveloping him evidently rocking him to his very core.

Gliding your grasp into place over his broad shoulders, you slowly drew your hips up before easing back down, all the while taking in every little micro-reaction you stirred on your partner's face.

“Christ, you feel so good,” he groaned, hazily peeling his eyelids open to blink back at you with a stary gaze, “so fucking warm,” he leaned back in a murmured against your lips, “and wet...”

One of your elbows bent and curled the remainder of the limb over his head, your fingers weaving into his short waves as you slowly nuzzled your nose against his, gently sweeping from side to side and sharing his hot breath as you leisurely bounced in his lap.

Keeping one of his palms glued to your hot cheek, the other one drifted down to undo the last remaining buttons, freeing your tits completely. His gaze lowered to watch them sway with your slow movements, the open flannel now akin to a curtain flowing next to the soft peaks.

“Fuck,” he moaned, holding you close as his dark brows knitted together, “if you keep going like that, you’ll make me cum.”

“Good,” you panted as you too felt the end near once more. With your forehead pressed to his, you shakily rode him, keeping up the same leisurely pace, feeling every single part of him intoxicatingly stretch you out, till his groans grew louder and his eyes screwed shut, digging his fingers into your hair as his length twitched inside of you and you creamed all over his cock, your amalgamation mingling and becoming indistinguishable from one another’s euphoric juices.

Burying your features in the crook of his neck, your breaths came in ragged as you felt how tightly your cunt was clenching around him. But nevertheless, you simply stayed there, frozen atop of him and with his softening girth still embedded deep within you.

“Oh my god,” you groaned light-heartedly into his skin, “you fucking dick.”

“What?” he chuckled warmly in your ear.

“No, it’s just,” you huffed out laboured breaths as you hazily explained, “you made me cum so hard and now I feel like a fucking virgin…” but when his reaction was to try and pluck you off of him, a sharp hiss escaped your lips, “no, no!” your arms tightened around his neck, “stay, stay,” your alarming tone was softened by a shuttering whimper.

Seizing your cheek, he gingerly drew you back for him to take in your fuzzy expression, “oh, you want me to stay?” he smiled at the pout that had formed on your lips, and a sluggish nod tipped your head at his playful tone, “alright,” he tilted his chin and pressed a kiss to the edge of your hairline, “I can stay.”

“It’s dumb,” you murmured as you felt his pecks flutter down your face, “but I’m just kinda scared that if you pull out I’ll just somehow close up completely.”

“You won’t,” a soft chuckle rumbled within his chest as he neared your lips, “don’t worry, I’ll help you if it ever comes to that.”

Tilting your chin, you pressed your lips to his, your tongue swiftly swooping in to dance lazily against his own.

Goosebumps erupted across your skin as you felt his touch lightly ghost all along your spine, caressing up and down the length of you as your kiss grew sloppy.

As you noticed your sensitive pussy begin to relax, so too did you sense when Frank’s cock, which previously hadn’t gone completely soft yet, began to swell within you, the sensation making your hips instinctively grind down against him as the sensation consumed you.

And with his lips never leaving yours, a light squeak escaped your lungs as Frank suddenly rose to his feet, scooping you with him, his fat cock all the while still staying warm within you.

As his slow stride carried you back inside, your gaze was hazy as his kisses migrated down your neck, but when you passed the kitchen, your eyes snapped back open, “wait,” you stopped him and his lips detached from your pounding pulse, a string of saliva still keeping him connected to where a lavender love mark had begun to bloom, “I’m thirsty! I still–,” keeping one arm hooked around his neck, you carefully pointed to the half-full glass still on the counter, “my water is right over there.”

With one hand under your bottom and the other clasped at your waist, he redirected his steps and walked over to the small open kitchen. Once he reached the counters, a sly smirk seeped across his features as he commanded, “hold on tighter,” and as you did, his grip then shifted and let go of your side to grasp the glass of water.

“You know, you could just put me down,” you chuckled as he lifted the drink up to your lips, carefully tilting it and granting you a sip.

“Now where’s the fun in that?” his coffee gaze stayed fast on your lips as you drank. When you tipped your head back to halt the flow, a little droplet escaped the corner of your mouth, rolled down your chin and all the way to your exposed chest. Setting the glass back down, he swiftly dragged the back of his index finger along the glistening stripe and wiped it up, “making a fucking mess,” briefly leaning in to clean up the rest with his tongue.

Giggling fleetingly at his comment, you asked, “do you want a sip?” but he only gazed back at you and gently shook his head, other desires more prevalent in his mind.

Biting down on your bottom lip, you felt his girth throb inside of you.

As his stride slowly began to return towards the bedroom, it only took you letting your arms hang at your sides a moment for the flannel to cascade off of you and drop to the floorboards.

Craning his neck, he buried his face in your boobs, nipping and nuzzling gently against the soft flesh as you insistently tugged at his grey tank, one of your socked feet also shifted and nudged at his waistband in an attempt at getting him to the same level of undress as you were at. But unfortunately, none of your efforts yielded much success as his grip on you halted the fabric from exposing too much of his warm flesh.

You hadn’t truly comprehended that you’d reached your destination before your spine pressed against the doorframe, Frank momentarily using it as leverage as he carefully lifted you off him, shifting his hold on you as you felt his previous load begin to drip out.

Gingerly plopping you down onto the bed, you expected him to melt down atop of you and bury himself so deep inside of you that you wouldn’t be able to walk for a whole week, instead his warmth disappeared as he took a few steps back, his dark eyes glued to you and the mess between your lazily fallen open thighs, as he stripped off the clothes that clung to his bulky physique.

Raising yourself up onto your elbows, your teeth snatched up your bottom lip as you spotted the lewd stain on the front of his pants, completely sodden with your essence.

He was surely taking his time with it, putting on a show and letting you drool over every sliver of skin he revealed, but perhaps it was just your impatience getting the best of you, because when the last bit of fabric finally dropped to the floor and he stood there a second in all of his jaw-dropping glory, you heard your whine resonate within the cabin, “Frank, my legs feel like jello,” a breathy laugh slipped out past your pout as you feared he’d ask you to come crawling to him, “please get back over here.”

Choking down a laugh of his own, he painfully slowly stepped closer to you, your thighs splitting wider as he neared.

“You sure?” he playfully cocked his brow as his fist closed in around his fat base, stroking himself agonisingly close to your puffy pussy, “I thought you said I made you come so hard that now you can’t take it anymore,” smiling as you attempted to wiggle closer without any success, “you sure you can handle more?”

“Yes,” flowed from your lips as you stared at the way his grip slid up and down his intimidating length, the lingering gloss making his movements go molten, “yes, I can take it, please, I want more.”

Finally granting you a tad of contact, he tapped the hefty weight against your swollen pearl, “yeah?” gliding his free palm down your inner thigh to fight it as it jerked in response, “this what you want?” he repeated the action, the lewd soppy smack resonating within the room, “or was it more something like this,” you gasped as he suddenly slid the entirety of his length inside of you.

“H-holy shit!” you felt all of the air get pushed out of your lungs as his tip nudged against the deepest part of you, a sensation that caused your limbs to tremble at his sides.

“What?” he smirked, pulling back out completely, and gliding his weight through your soppy folds, parting them with his girth as he rubbed against your clit, “I didn’t quite catch that,” your hazy gaze fluttered down to see how far up your stomach his length rested, the staggering image efficiently causing your brain to melt out of your ear.

“Yo-you, you, yes!” you blubbered incoherently, “that–, yes!”

“What? This?” he bullied your clit further.

“Ah!” you moaned sharply, “no, no–”

“Oh, you mean this?” he slammed back inside of you so fiercely that tears formed in the corners of your eyes, “is this what you want? Would this make you happy?” he slowly eased back out, just halfway, before burying himself once more, “because you know that’s all I want, is just to make my girl happy.”

Mouth agape, you watched as he fucked you, still standing tall next to where to laid melted against the mattress, but when you noticed the dull bulge that rhythmically appeared in the lower part of your stomach, your eyes grew wide, and the tangible proof made your pussy threaten to flutter around his girth.

“F-Frank!” you whimpered as he gazed down at you, admiring the way you took his entirety, “I think I'm gonna–”

“What?” he offered you one last thrust before retracting completely, leaving you squirming as he dropped down to his knees before you, “you’re gonna what?”

Both of his thumbs briefly came up to spread your puff apart for him, granting him a great view of your collected mess that still oozed out of you. redirecting his gaze to stare up at you, he placed a few teasing pecks along your glistening petals, his prominent nose nudging against your puffy clit as he teased you, making his way up to lap a cruelly light lick to your sensitive pearl.

“I am waiting patiently here,” two of his fingers came to fill you up, hooking inside of you and swiftly initiating a rocking rhythm against that spot that conjured the lewdest of squelching melodies, “what are you gonna do, huh?” and as he sucked down on your clit, he only did so for what felt like a second before it all became too intense and your pussy gushed around his determined digits, a display he had obviously hoped for as he bellowed gravelly, “there it is,” a feral look glazing over his intense gaze as he tickled out as much of your nectar as you’d grant him, “fuck!”

As you laid there quivering and shaking on the crumbled sheets, the last thing you’d expected after a high so paralysing was for you to crave more, and you did. In a deep and primal way that you couldn’t quite wrap your head around. In a way that caused you to sluggishly yank him up onto the bed and feel his weight on top of you, a sensation you didn’t get to savour long before he rolled around, taking you with him as he planted his head upon the pillows still at the top of the bed and manhandling you on top of him.

Body melted and plastered atop of his, you uttered into his skin, “you’re being so mean.”

Digging his grip into your hips, he grinded you down against him and checked, “too mean?”

“I–…” you thought about it a second before the corners of your lips began to tip upwards, “no… I like it, but you’re just still mean.”

Manoeuvring your molten frame, he lifted your pelvis up far enough for him to slip back inside.

“Yeah, well, what else is new,” you felt his low chuckle rumble in his burly chest beneath your cheek, “we can’t all be a ray of sunshine like you.”

Keeping his grasp glued to your hips, you swiftly discovered that your exhausted limbs weren’t up to the task of doing all of the work independently and became ever so grateful when you didn’t even have to ask for help as Frank began to rock your frame for you, moving you like a toy on top of him.

Arms curling up and retracting in against your form, you smooshed your cheek further down against his chest as you drooled on his pecks, the rocking motion nearly lulling you off into a dream, but before you could fade away completely, Frank’s voice washed over you once more.

“Hey, sweetheart?”

“Mhm?” you mewled as he fucked you down upon him.

“Can you open your eyes for me?”

And when you did, it took your fuzzy gaze a moment before you spotted the mirror on the far side wall and the reflection in it, but when you did notice it, the shuttering moan you let out left no doubt in Frank’s mind if you had or not.

“Look at how fucking pretty you are when you’re all fucked out,” you felt him shift his hold so that he kept your hips stagnant and bucked his own up into you in such a way that caused your head to levitate just a centimetre off his pecks as his balls slapped against you from the force of his efforts, “can you keep your beautiful eyes right there on the mirror? I want you to see how cute you look when you cum…”

You weren’t sure that cute was the specific word you would have used to describe how it looked when he once again made you squirt all over his cock. But sure, you could see how in Frank’s eyes you must have looked utterly adorable gushing around him from just how good he made you feel.

Rolling over, you both now laid on your sides with your limp leg flung over his hip and his flush face clutched in your palms as you held him close in the silky embrace.

“Frank,” your woollen-socked foot caressed his lower back as it methodically moved beneath it with every lavish thrust, “I don’t think I can cum again.”

“Is that a challenge?” his warm palm slid down your frame and he pressed his middlemost fingers down upon your overly sensitive clit, “because I think you can. I even think you can squirt some more for me,” and as he angled his molten motions, he didn’t quit till your face screwed up and squelching noises echoed at every zealous plunge, “such a fucking good girl, you can do it, just let go, I’ve got you,” he talked you through your high as it crashed into you, nearly knocking you out completely as your body fulfilled his wish and his own peak swiftly followed suit as your clambering pussy milked him dry.

With sweet sweat glistening up your skin, you felt utterly boneless as you laid there in Frank’s arms. Placing a few slow pecks all along the length of his nose, he hummed contentedly and a soft smile warmth up his features.

After nearly falling back asleep in the safe cocoon that was the post-coital bliss, you heard yourself ask after you both landed on not slumbering the day away.

“You wanna take a shower before we actually figure something real out for breakfast?”

“Wow, okay,” he jokingly scoffed as he began to drag himself out of the bed, “but don’t think this is gonna work a third time.”

“What?” you chuckled as he got up to his feet and pulled open the top dresser drawer for a few fresh towels, “no, I seriously just mean cleaning up before we eat!”

491 notes · View notes

munsonownsmyass · 3 months

Text

Frank Castle x OFC! Abigail Miller

Summary: After his first visit, Frank comes to town more often. As the days go by, him and Abby get closer.

Notes: Still just some good ol' pining for this one folks. It's a slowburn, I'm sorry 😆

But we get way more Frank in this one and some not so pure thoughts. But really... who could have pure thoughts around Frank Castle? 🥵

There's also a little nod to Matt Murdock in here 🤭

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Words: 3.3K

Part 1 - Masterlist - Part 3

Two weeks. It had been exactly two weeks since Abby had last seen Frank. Some days she caught herself looking at the door, hoping he would walk through.

Which in itself is really silly. First of all, Mildred said he rarely comes to town, always keeping to himself. Secondly, she had barely talked to him. So why did she think about him?

Well, she had to admit his eyes were kinda pretty. Okay, they were downright beautiful. And thinking about it, his lips were kinda plump and… really kissable.

God, was she really thirsting over a man she barely knew? It really had been too long since she had gotten laid. And how old was he anyway? Definitely older than her, but the beard probably made him look older than he actually was. Abby shakes her head, finishing putting some freshly baked muffins in the display.

Thankfully it’s a slow day, so Abby has lots of time to do some much-needed chores around the store. Browse for new recipes, put the delivered goods in the cooler or storage. Just as she puts the empty boxes away in the backroom, she hears the bell from the door.

“I’ll be there in a sec” she yells cheerfully. When Abby re-enters the store, she sees him. Frank Castle. Well, you know what they say. Speak of the devil and all that. Without thinking, she instantly smooths down the folds of her apron, before she walks towards him.

“Mr. Castle, what can I do for you today?”

“I wanted some more bread. And maybe some cookies too.”

“You came to the right place then.” she smiles softly, hoping he takes no offence by the playful tone to her voice. She walks towards the counter, gesturing to the selection she has, waiting for his order. When he walks closer, she is reminded of just how tall he is. And broad. God, he is broad.

She forces a smile, looking up at Frank with an innocent face, like she didn’t just think about him. “So what tickles your fancy?”

He doesn’t answer, just looks at her with an intense gaze. His eyes trailing down her body and up again, where they once again meet hers. Abby suddenly feels shy, strangely exposed under his gaze.

“Do you have more of that corn loaf?” He asks, his deep voice calm and soft.

Surprised, Abby’s lips quirk up into a smile. Figures he would be a man of habits. “The same bread again, Mr. Castle? You don’t want to try something new?”

“Just call me Frank.”

A sudden warm feeling washes over her at the prospect of getting to know Frank better. It’s not much, but it’s a start.

“I do have one left.” Abby says softly, as she walks to the bread and put it in a bag. As she types the order into the register, Frank just looks at her, studying her quietly. Once she had added the cookies, she looks at him again. Not wanting him to go yet, but still not wanting to push too much, she gestures towards the coffee machine.

“You want a cup of coffee before you go?”

“No.” He says a bit too hard. He frowns quickly before his face turns softer. “No, thank you.”

It’s strange, as if he’s been alone for so long that he’s forgotten how to interact with people. Abby doesn't mind, though, but the thought makes her sad, makes her wonder why he keeps to himself.

He lingers for a moment, looking to the display, before his eyes find hers again. “You don’t have any red velvet cupcakes?”

“No, but I can make you some.” Abby smiles softly, suddenly eyeing an opportunity. “If you leave your number, I can call you when they’re done?“

Frank nods softly, taking one of the notepads on the counter. As he scribbles down his number, Abby notices how small the ballpen is in his hand, how small the notepad is against the other. God, his hands are huge. Just like the rest of him. Before she can stop herself, Abby looks him up and down, before scolding herself. Down girl. She doesn’t even know him yet. And even if she did, she wouldn’t know what to do, hopeless around men. Truth be told, she’d never had a serious relationship, always been a little shy. Or she just never found the right one. But… Doesn’t hurt to look, does it?

She forces herself to look away, biting her lip in shame.

Frank hands her the block, before he puts his hands back into the pocket of his coat. Silence falls between them. Abby fidgets with the block, while Frank looks at her. He opens his mouth, as if he’s gonna say something, but no words come out. He looks away, nods and turns towards the door.

“Have a nice day, Frank.”

He gives her a quick wave and leaves the store. Abby looks after him until he reaches his car, wondering what he wanted to say. She looks at the block in her hand, smiling, before she returns to her chores.

The next day, Abby and Mildred are sitting in the couch area, when Mildred spots something outside.

“Well, will you look at that? Frank is in town again. Twice in one month.” She takes a sip of her coffee, her eyes following him as he walks towards the shop. “Don’t think that has ever happened before.”

“Actually…” Abby starts softly, biting her bottom lip. Mildred looks at her, scotching closer. “He was here yesterday.”

Mildred looks at Abby softly, raising her brow, as a shit eating grin spreads on her face. “Hmm… I wonder what’s suddenly causing him to visit more.”

She nudges Abby’s shoulder playfully, before she puts her cup down, walking towards the back room.

“What are you doing?” Abby asks, confused.

“Leaving you alone with him.” Mildred blinks, before she disappears behind the kitchen door, just in time for Frank to enter the shop. Abby turns to face him, a blush slowly creeping up her cheeks. Frank walks towards her slowly, a faint smile on his lips.

Huh. A smile. Would you look at that? Abby can’t help but imagine how he would look with a full-on smile, how it would light up his face.

“I was wondering if my cakes were ready. Was heading to town anyways, so…”

“Oh, yeah. I… I was just about to call you, actually.” She smiles softly, fighting the urge to smile too much. Mildred couldn’t be right, could she?

Abby gets up to get his cakes, already packed up nicely in a little box. As she hands him the box, he has a faint smile on his face, his features softening ever so slightly. Looking softer, he’s not that intimidating. Sure, the hair was a little long, and that beard could use a little trim, too. But it really wasn’t that bad.

As he walks to the door, Abby softly wishes him a good day, even though he never reciprocates. Frank stops in the door, looking out into the street, before he looks back at her. His brown eyes are soft, as they look into her green ones.

“Have a nice day” he says quickly, before lowering his gaze and walking out the store.

Once outside, he looks through the window, but when he sees Abby watching, he blushes and looks away. As Frank walks to his car, Mildred comes out of the backroom, practically snickering. She puts her arm around Abby, a wide smile on her face.

“That is something I never thought I would see. You got more than 5 words out of him. He must like you.”

She gives Abby a little squeeze, before she returns to her coffee, already talking about the county fair, even though it’s still a month away. But Abby’s mind is still on Frank. He couldn’t possibly like her, could he?

She shakes her head, walking over to Mildred, trying not to smile too much.

The next few weeks flew by. Frank had come into the shop 3 more times. Once to pick up more cookies and twice for… Well, Abby wasn’t sure. He said he just wanted coffee, but the coffee couldn’t be that good, could it?

He was still very quiet, not talking much at all. A few sentences here and there, but one thing she noticed was his voice. He sounded warmer, more comfortable. Even his body language changes. He looks more relaxed, the tension gone from his shoulders, as he sits on the couch, enjoying a coffee while looking at the small bookshelves.

One day he casually mentioned he was reading Moby Dick as he was browsing through her collection of classics. It was nice to know they had that in common.

Sometimes they don’t even talk at all, just relax in each other’s company. Every so often, Abby would look up as she’s finishing up a cake, only to find Frank’s eyes already on her. And for every sweet smile she gave him, he would give one in return.

The bell to the shop rings. When Abby looks up, she is in shock for a second. Frank is there and in his hand is a bouquet of Gerber Daisies. Smiling widely, surprised by his gesture, she takes the flowers from him. “What is this for?”

“The shop's three-month anniversary.” His voice soft and… nervous? No, she must be mistaken. “It’s from my garden.” He continues softly, looking at her. Abby is one big smile, as she finds an empty vase and pour some water in. Once the flowers are in, she puts it right on the counter.

He couldn’t have picked a better flower, the Gerber Daisy being one of her favorites. She had always loved colors and could remember how her dad would always bring her mother a bouquet every Friday, filled with Gerber Daisies in all the colors the florist had.

“It… It reminded me of you.” He says softly, a gentleness to his voice that almost makes her heart ache.

“How so?” Abby asks softly, almost certain her face was flushed red at this point.

“You’re colorful.” He huffs softly, before looking down at his hands. With a shrug of his shoulders, he looks up into her eyes again. But before he can say anything, they’re interrupted by Mr. Peterson, the guy who owned the flower shop next door.

“Hello Miss Miller. Here with your flowers.”

When he sees Frank, he instantly smiles wider. “Mr. Castle, it’s such a pleasure you’ve been coming to town more.”

Frank nods and smiles, before he walks to the door in a hurry. Mr. Peterson just shrugs it off, before he begins replacing the flowers around the shop.

Abby looks down at the Daisies, gently taking one of the petals between her fingertips. So he thinks about her, huh? A warm feeling runs through her, her heart beating faster. Abby wondered what he was about to say, when they got interrupted? God, she wishes she knew.

Still caressing the soft petal, she barely hears when Mr. Peterson speaks to her. “I’m sorry, Mr. Peterson. What?”

“Just said I was done, Dear. Have a good day.” He looks at her hand, before shooting her a knowing smile. He snickers softly as he leaves the store. Great, now that’ll be all over town. But somehow, she really doesn’t care. She turns to the flowers again and then notices something on the counter. A wallet.

Confused, she picks it up and looks for an ID. A huge grin spreads as she reads the name. Francis Cast-… Castiglione? Italian? And a Francis, huh? Curious, she reads the rest. His address, birthday and… Wait… His birthday was only a few days away. Should she…? No, that would be crazy, wouldn’t it? He would probably hate it if she did anything.

If he wanted to celebrate his birthday, he would say so, right? But maybe he didn’t say anything because-

Before she can finish the thought, some customers walk in. As she helps them pick out some cakes, Frank comes back. He sees his wallet and gestures to Abby that he found it, before leaving again.

A week later, Abby is sitting in her car, heading down a small forest road. This was probably crazy, but she really wanted to do something nice for Frank.

The last few months they had gotten closer and dared she think, had become friends? And friends didn’t let another friend be alone on their birthday.

Finally, after 4 wrong turns and 50 checks to many with the GPS, Abby finally pulls into the driveway. As she looks around, she is at a loss for words. The cabin is beautiful, taken straight out of a travel magazine. Beautiful wood and stones, perfectly matched, looking gorgeous against the green of the woods. Near the treeline, there are huge stacks of lumber.

The whole place is really quiet, peaceful. She gets why Frank loves it up here.

From a small gap in the trees, Frank emerges, followed by two pitbulls. When he sees Abby, he drops his axe on a log and walks towards her car, a frown on his face.

Shit. Maybe this was a bad idea. As he strides towards her car, she braces herself. Ready to be scolded, told to fuck off. She slowly exits the car, smiling gently at Frank.

“What are you doing here?”

She can’t quite decipher his expression. A mixture of anger and shock is painted on his face. Maybe even panic. Abby gets it. She’s probably the first one up here in years, maybe ever. “Sorry, I… It’s your birthday, so I wanted to-”

“How do you know?” He demands, looking into her eyes, confusion written all over his face.

“I… I looked in your wallet. To see who left it.” She bites her lip, looking at the ground like a scolded child. When she looks back up into his eyes, his expression has softened.

“Sorry, I… I never have visitors.”

“And now I see why.” Abby smiles nervously, gesturing towards his intimidating posture. Frank instantly relaxes.

A small wine comes from behind him, and they both look at the dogs, sitting nicely, waiting to be called over. Frank whistles and the dogs rush to Abby, almost knocking her over. She’s always loved dogs, grew up with them and had actually been thinking about adopting one after she moved out here.

“Easy boy.” Frank says softly to the eager dark one. God, his deep rich voice always makes her heart flutter.

“They’re cute. What’s their names?” Abby asks curiously, her eyes never leaving the dogs. Always been a dog person, maybe even liking them more than humans. Dogs are honest, their emotions and intentions always clear. She liked that.

“This guy is Max.” He points to the dark grey Pitbull, before turning to the red one. “And this little boy is… Red.”

Frank shuffles slightly, scratching the back of his head, as he looks down at the two of them. “Max I rescued, and Red I got at a shelter. Named after someone I knew years ago.”

He smiles softly as he pats squats down and pat the young Pitbull’s head. Abby couldn’t help but wonder who this person was. Must’ve have meant something to Frank. Abby stands again, brushing the dirt and dog hairs of her fingers. Suddenly nervous, she smoothed down her dress, before gesturing towards her car. “I actually brought you something.”

Abby excitedly opens the door, pulling out the cake and a present. Her smile falls slightly, when she sees his face. Abby was expecting him to be surprised, but she never would have expected this.

He looks overwhelmed, like he can’t believe what is happening. Abby’s heart clenches at the thought. How long had it been since anyone had done anything like this for him?

He gestures for her to follow, leading her to the backyard. While he goes inside to get plates, Abby sits down in a lounge chair. She didn’t know what she expected his place to look like, but it wasn’t quite this. New stylish furniture that complimented the wood of the cabin. It was all very clean and minimalistic, but still somehow had soul. She looks towards the terrace door, dying to know what it looks like on the inside. Maybe next time.

Frank comes back with a tray, holding plates, cups and a teapot. But that’s not what has caught Abby’s attention.

While inside, Frank has taken his jacket off and holy fuck. Abby had never seen arms as his, suddenly feeling her throat dry up. Toned muscular arms, flexed, so thick. And God, the shirt. Until now, she had only seen him with a jacket or sweatshirt on, never really knowing what kind of body was underneath. But now, as his tight t-shirt clings to him slightly damp skin, nothing is left to imagination. A broad, muscular chest. Nipples perked in the cool afternoon air. Abs dancing under the thin fabric. She bites her lip, wondering what he would look like without it, sweat dripping down his chest as he chops wood?

It takes every ounce of willpower for Abby to look away, before she gets caught. Her head now filled with images she wouldn’t forget anytime soon, she clears her throat, pushing the cake towards Frank.

“I… I-“ she coughs, stumbling over her words. Damn, how could he affect her so much without even doing anything. “I didn’t know what flavor you liked, so I made carrot cake.”

“Well, lucky for you I love cream cheese frosting.” A wide smile plays on his handsome features. Just when she didn’t think he could be any prettier, he smiles.

Frank carves them both a piece and then they eat in silence, looking out over his grounds. A big field of grass surrounded by trees. To one side, there’s a big greenhouse filled with plants and raised beds with herbs. To the other side there’s bushes with berries.

All over the yard there’s flowers, making it a colorful space. But closest to her, in many pots on the terrace, there’s Gerber Daisies. Just like the ones he gave her, in all colors of the rainbow. “This place is really wonderful, Frank.”

He just smiles and mutters a quiet thank you through a mouthful of cake. Abby giggles softly, the sight of Frank with his mouth full priceless, his cheeks filled out like a chipmunk. “So, I take it the cake was a hit?”

“Best damn cake I’ve had in years, sweetheart.”

She’s so damn easy. One ‘sweetheart’ leaves his lips and she’s a puddle. But to be fair, that voice of his is something else.

Abby gently pushes the present towards him. Frank tears the paper away, smiling when he sees the book. Okay, sure, maybe she should have gotten him something else. But she didn’t know him well enough, and he did seem to love books.

“Looking at what books you eyed at the shop, I thought that you might enjoy ‘The Call of the Wild’.”

“I love it, thank you.” Frank smiles softly, opening the book, inspecting the pages. Suddenly captivated by the way his fingers gently dance over the pages, Abby can’t help but wish she was that book. To have his fingers dance over her skin like that. She swallows a huge lump, looking at his hands. How could such a big book look small in his hands?

After a moment's silence, he looks into her eyes, suddenly looking a little nervous. “Abby, you’re going to the county fair, right?”

Slightly surprised by his question, she tells him how Mildred coerced her into helping set up. “But my evening is free. Why?”

“Maybe… You’d wanna go with me?”

Abby isn’t sure he heard him right. But the way he smiles, she knows it’s true. She can’t hold back her smile, as she happily agrees.

She was already tripping. Did he just ask her on a date? As she looks up into his beautiful chocolate eyes, a soft smile on his face, her heart flutters. Saturday couldn’t come fast enough.

Tagging: @e-dubbc11 @itwasthereaminuteago @chvoswxtch @theradioactivespidergwen @danzer8705 @lucy-sky @yanna-banana @murdock-and-the-sea @mattmurdocksscars @boliv-jenta @darlingshane @pedrito-friskito

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#lumberjack frank castle #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle #frank castle AU #frank castle x abigail miller #whisk me away

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